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Event: Blood Harvest Part 2
Work in Progress Blood Harvest continues into the actual story, with the flow following that of the movies, throwing action and danger at you right from the start. Please note that Blood Harvest excerpts will be a bit longer and more uniform than "Of Blood and Honor" was. Star Wars: Blood Harvest Part 2, Rebellion in Earnest The brown and tan soil of Quintson was about the same as every other arid world across the galaxy. When a person looked at it, there was a feeling of emptiness, a void that on other planets was filled by the native plants and animals. Here, there was sand, dirt, rocks, and more of the same, no matter where you looked. This was just the way that Quintson always was. It had always been desolate and arid. The only thing good about the planet was its rich veins of ore buried beneath the surface. Quintson had been a protectorate of the Antrixian Commonwealth since the planets and ruling Houses of the Maridis Sector came together to form the Commonwealth, thousands of years before the Sith had brought about the Great Galactic War. Even before that, Quintson had been contested by three Houses of the colony worlds of Antrixies. With the formation of the Commonwealth, Quintson had fallen under the supervision of House Corrino and House Harkonna. Now, every one hundred years, Quintson and its rich mining industry were bid out as a contract to the various Houses of the Commonwealth. Currently, the contract was in the possession of House Kemic, but it was more or less leased to House Harkonna. The banner flag of House Kemic might fly on Quintson, but everyone knew that House Harkonna was more in control than the appearance suggested. That’s why it had become the perfect hiding spot for members of the Antrixian Resistance. Hiding right under the noses of a House that was considered to be heavily in league with the Imperials, a large cell of the Resistance had turned an old subterranean mining facility into a base in which they could live and hide in. Strikes against Imperial targets did not originate from Quintson, but operatives were smuggled on and off the world with careful planning. Most often, the world made the perfect hiding spot for Antrixians, Lutrins, Knydens, or Sangheili that were wanted by authorities. More specifically, the facility had made a wonderful refuge for some of the surviving Jinsai warriors that had so far escaped Imperial hands. Regardless of how secret the hidden facility was, security was always taken very seriously. Two guards, Jorha and Mikal, paced the corridor that led to one of the small, camouflaged entrances to the base. Just as they had many times before, the pair engaged in idle small talk as the patrolled the corridor. Hewn from the very stone found in the hilly region of Quintson, the tunnel was rough and irregular. But traffic from machinery and miners had worn the floor smooth over the years. Illumination came from small glow panels that drew power from solar panels twenty meters above Jorha and Mikal’s heads. These panels used very little energy, making them virtually invisible to all but dedicated sensors specifically searching them out. The rocky hills surrounding the facility also had enough magnetic resonance to foul sensors also. As Jorha and Mikal reached the last hatch leading to the hidden entrance, both men paused. Jorha squinted into the dimness behind them, leading back towards the main facility. “Did you hear that?” Jorha asked, his eyes giving off a faint red glow, typical of other Antrixians with the red glow. “Hear what?” Mikal asked back. His eyes were the opposite of the typical Antrixian, having a blue glow that seemed to come from the whites of his eyes, illuminating the iris and pupil. “It sounded like a thud… Almost like a seismic charge or something.” Jorha answered. “Are you sure you got enough sleep on the last down cycle?” Mikal asked, mocking Jorha. “Yes, listen!” Jorha hissed. “There it was again!” Mikal fell silent and strained his ear back in the direction Jorha was looking. Maybe his ears had been convinced that Jorha wasn’t mad and that he had actually heard something. His mind, however, said that Jorha was crazy, regardless of what his ears heard. “You’re a bloody fool, Jor-” Mikal’s statement was cut off as the blast door behind the pair blew inward with enough concussive force to knock both men flat. Jorha was unfortunately killed instantly as one section of the door crushed him to the floor with enough force to snap his neck. Mikal was more fortunate, but his time was quickly running out. His right leg was pinned under the other section of the heavy blast doors. Struggle as he might, Mikal was trapped. He struggled to pull his comlink from his belt as three shadowy figures made their way into the corridor through the smoke that hung in the air from the explosion. “You were right, my Lady… So right!” Came a shrill, chilling, female voice through the smoke. “You doubted me?” Another voice held a distinct haughty, Core accent to it. It was almost mocking… Cocky. Mikal struggled more, attempting to get free by any means he could. He tried to budge the panel lying on his leg, but it was no use. It wouldn’t even move a millimeter. He fought through the intense pain and attempted to grab his comlink from his belt again. Just as he pulled it free from the storage pouch on his utility belt, Mikal looked up and his blood ran cold. The comlink absently fell from his hand, rolling across the stone floor, as his mind froze and he stared at the deliverer of his fate. Anyone who had been a member of the Antrixian Resistance had heard of or seen images and holo footage of the Imperial assassin, Lady Deathstryke. The reports that accompanied the images were bad enough, but the holos made one feel the primal fear of a small animal being stalked by the deadliest predator it had ever faced. There were very few survivors from encounters with Deathstryke. She was sadistic and maniacal. It appeared that she took pleasure in first hunting her target, then torturing them before slowly killing them. There were few that received a quick death at her hands. Even fewer had escaped when Deathstryke’s leash handler was along. High Inquisitor Syanne Harkness commanded the Imperial forces that hunted down rebel elements within the Maridis and Relkan Sector. A fallen Jedi Padawan from the Clone Wars, Syanne was one of the first of the Jedi Order to betray her brethren to the Empire at the close of the Clone Wars. She was also responsible for leading Clone Troopers against the Commonwealth forces, targeting the Jinsai as Order 66 was carried out across the galaxy. To Syanne and the Imperials, the Jinsai were the same as the Jedi, traitors to the New Order. It didn’t matter if a Jinsai was Force-sensitive or not. They had all conspired against the Emperor as far as Syanne was concerned. She harbored a hate for the Jedi and all they stood for, mostly because the Jedi couldn’t save her mother when she was killed. Syanne’s fall to the Dark Side had been well orchestrated by Chancellor Palpatine, also known as Darth Sidious, or even more popularly as Emperor Palpatine. While Syanne had been severed from her family as a toddler, Palpatine had found a way to keep her father in “observation” of the young girl as she trained to be a Jedi. When they were reunited years later, the Clone Wars were in effect. Palpatine had bought the loyalty of Terrel Harkness, making him a tool for the New Order, and along with the father, came the daughter. “Ah, look my pet.” Syanne casually said as she stepped through the smoke and came into plain view. “There’s a live one.” Deathstryke, almost crawling, made her way over to Mikal. She jumped up as she came to the fallen blast door, crushing it down onto his pinned leg even more. Mikal cried out as he felt the broken bones of his leg grate together, snapping him out of his paralysis. “Care to play, Antrixian?” Deathstryke hissed as she crawled nearer to Mikal. The mockery of her question was that she had been born Antrixian also. That is until the Imperials had turned her into a cybernetic monster. Nothing was left of the young Antrixian girl that had been turned into Deathstryke. She had been tortured and experimented on, eventually being given full indoctrination to compliment her cybernetics and enhancements. The young woman’s mind had fractured, leaving behind the monster that lived and hunted today. “Go to hell, you abomination!” Mikal growled through gritted teeth. He spat in Deathstryke’s face as she drew to within a breath of his own face. “Wrong answer, traitor!” Deathstryke quickly brought her hand up and released one of the sharp wrist-blades free of it’s embedded casing in her forearm. The blade pierced through Mikal’s lower jaw, driving into his brain, killing him instantly. Rurak Pensar made his way to stand beside Syanne as the Inquisitor’s pet pulled her blade free from the fallen man. He shook his head in disgust. “I hope there are other rebels here, Deathstryke.” Rurak said with disdain. “Who are we to question if there are no prisoners to take? Especially when you keep killing them.” “Are you not opening yourself to the Force, my young apprentice?” Syanne answered for Deathstryke. “I can practically smell them up ahead. Any prisoners taken will be interrogated and then sent on to Crematoria. I hear that our friend Colonel Weyre has some special plans for some of those miscreants.” Syanne motioned for the others to follow her. Soon, the original trio was followed by the white armored forms of Stormtoopers. Twelve in all, these Stormtroopers were different from the others in the galaxy. Each of them bore a red stripe on their helmets and shoulders. These were the Blood Hunters, Syanne’s personal force of Stormtroopers used to hunt down rogue targets in the Antrixian Commonwealth. Forward they went, down the long corridor, unafraid of resistance that might bar their way. What was considered to command and control room of the facility on Quintson buzzed with alarms and activity. The rebels, some volunteer, others actual soldiers, scrambled to defensive positions as the alert was given that their refuge had been breached by Imperial forces. Watching a security monitor, Zaysa Ossian noted that Lady Harkness was leading this foray herself. The Antrixian woman, nearing her forty-seventh year, knew who Harkness had come hunting for. Lady Ossian was tall and fit, with dark hair, piercing green eyes that had a blue glow, and still looking like a woman just entering her prime. Zaysa was the last of the Jinsai Tribunes left from before the Clone Wars. There once were three, but now only her. She had been instilled as a Tribune one year before the Republic turned into the Galactic Empire, the youngest Jinsai Tribune ever. She was strong, disciplined, and patient. She was also well versed in the laws and traditions of her people. For over twenty years, Zaysa had led part of the Resistance with resolve and respect. Now, for the first time in a long time, she felt that her time might be drawing to a close. “Tribune!” Came to voice of Harrad Cassel, a younger Antrixian with soldier written all over him. “You must evacuate!” Zaysa turned from the monitor, cool and calm. She faced the younger Harrad, the man that had acted as her aide for the past five years. While her own eyes weren’t glowing fiercely, Harrad’s had a bright red glow to them. She absently brushed her dark hair back from her green eyes. “I face the same fate as everyone else.” Zaysa stated. “No.” Harrad returned flatly. “You know what Admiral Strykia has said!” “I know, but I’ll not leave everyone to the slaughter. I will stand and fight!” “At what cost?” Harrad quickly changed to almost pleading. “My lady: You are the last of your line. If you die, so does House Ossian.” “I have cousins to carry on the line.” “You are the last of the Tribunes. The twins need you!” Harrad grabbed her hand. “The Commonwealth that rises from the ashes will need you. Don’t be afraid of the changes that come!” “I’m not afraid.” Zasya said, pulling her hand back. She wasn’t angry with the man. She was angrier that it had taken twenty years for hope to be reborn in the Commonwealth. That hope now lay light years away, in the hands of twins that had been raised far away from the Commonwealth. She knew that if the rumored Desmora Prophecy came to pass, the Commonwealth that she had grown up in, defended, and tried to preserve would come to pass, replaced by something different than what it had been. “Lady Lexander awaits you in the transport! GO NOW!” Harrad had long ago given over to the sacrifice he might need to make some day. Today would be that day. He would die, proud to have served his people. For the first time in many years, Zaysa felt like she did when she had fled Antrixies during the Purge, the betrayal of the Commonwealth by Imperial forces driving fear into everyone. She was afraid of the future. She could stay and fight, knowing that her death would come. But part of her knew that she had to face down this new fear. It was the Jinsai way to confront fear. It was her way. She began to walk quickly. Before she got to the door of the control room, she turned to look back at Harrad. “May you always find shade and water, my near-brother.” She said, tears forming in her eyes. It was the first time in many years that she had cried. “With teeth and blade bared, into the shadow!” Harrad responded, saying the traditional Jinsai combat challenge. He gave her a small smile. “May the Force be with us all, my Lady!” Zaysa turned and ran. She continued to run even when she heard the explosion from the control room and the shouts that followed it. Zaysa didn’t have to be Force-sensitive to know that almost everyone she had known on Quintson was soon going to be dead. The sounds of fighting were intense throughout the entire base, spurring her to run faster. What she didn’t know was that every person remaining behind was giving their life to ensure her escape. They had created a open course for her to reach the small hangar by keeping the Imperials busy elsewhere. It felt like Zaysa had run for an hour, but less than two minutes later, she emerged into the hangar. Sitting on it’s landing gear was one of the last Jinsai Warblade-class transports remaining. Two armored Antrixian Security guards flanked the boarding ramp, flagging her to run to them. Once she ran up the ramp, the guards followed and secured the airlock behind her. The lead guard keyed a control panel as the blast door shut. “Lady Lexander! Tribune Ossian is aboard.” “Thank you, lieutenant. Secure everyone! This is going to be a rough ride!” Came a response over the ship-board comm. system. Zaysa was lost in thought as the guards made sure she was secured in her seat. Her mind drifted through the thoughts of everyone that she had known, some now long dead, others that would suffer at the hands of the Imperials on that day. The words of Admiral Edric Strykia echoed in her head also. “With Draygan now gone, my niece and nephew will step to the forefront. Marissa’s plan will come to fruition, and the Imperials will finally be gone. I have faith in the Force that all that we have planned for will come to pass.” The rebellion of the Commonwealth might have been going on for twenty years, but today, Zaysa felt that it started in earnest. A moment later, the dagger-shaped vessel blasted out of the hangar that had been obscured in the hillside for years. The sublight drives of the ship flashed brightly as the vessel climbed through the atmosphere quickly. Before any of the orbiting Imperial ships could respond or intercept, the transport was breaking free from the planet and readying to jump to hyperspace. ---- On the outer edges of the Manchi system, it was customary for Imperial starships to dump their garbage and waste prior to jumping to hyperspace. Since Manchi was the sector capital and a major place for the Imperials to travel to and from, clouds of garbage floating near jump-points were common. They also made the perfect hiding place for small ships to lay in ambush. The dump from an Imperial Star Destroyer gave an opportunity for those that wanted to do just that: Ambush other Imperials. Six small fighters and a light freighter drifted in amongst the debris left by larger ships, powered down and silently waiting. Watching and waiting for a prey to make it’s way into a trap. The ships were a mix of different craft, not much different than the composition of starfighter squadrons used by the Rebel Alliance. These were rebel ships of their own kind. Shadow Wolves. These were the hands of the High Lord of Antrixies, currently in exile, waging war against the Empire on their own front. They weren’t out here waiting to ambush Imperial ships just to combat the Imperials; they were hunting for supplies also. Ever since Phantom Station had been damaged in an attack, the Wolves had been out hunting. “This is probably the most boring assignment we’ve been on.” Came the voice of Angella Chylde over the ship-to-ship comm. “Cut the chatter, Ang.” CJ Morgan called from the powered down Corellian freighter, the Lightning’s Ride. CJ peered out the cockpit canopy towards where Angella’s X-wing fighter was drifting attached to a large chunk of what had probably been deck plating at one time. CJ half expected Ang to be thumbing her nose in CJ’s direction. “What part of comm. silence didn’t you two get in the briefing?” Bren Inarro, Angella’s mentor was a retired CorSec operative that had defected from the Empire when Angella was falsely charged with crimes by the Imperials. He had also been a mentor of sorts for CJ, helping her pass her piloting test back on Corellia before she set out to become a freighter captain. Bren had been a close friend with her father. The older Corellian was now acting as the de facto leader of the loose conglomeration of fighters that made up the Shadow Wolves Irregulars. CJ smiled at Bren’s statement, loving how the man never changed. He might be gruff and hard, but CJ knew that Bren would watch out for every person under his command. “Sorry, Wolf leader.” CJ responded. “Just shut it before I come over there and seal your mouths with plast-seal.” Just as CJ was ready to shut off her mic and go back to comm. silence, she heard a chuckle come across the open frequency. She immediately recognized the chuckle as her new fiancée’s, Sebastian Synklair’s. “Synklair… I heard that.” CJ rolled her eyes and let out a sigh as she clicked the mic button. “Shalranna… Remind me to kick my fiancée in the rear when we get back to Phantom Station.” CJ said as she looked over at her Wookiee co-pilot. Shalranna responded with a chuckle of his own. The Lightning’s Ride was on it’s lowest power settings as it drifted in space. Only the bare necessities were on, along with the ship’s sensor bafflers. The only way the ship could have been detected was if a person in a passing craft looked at it among the floating junk. CJ monitored her boards from the pilot seat, trying to keep herself busy while the small force laid in wait. Her faithful astromech droid, R2-F3, sat behind her in the space that it normally occupied when the ship was in operation. Arfee, as the droid was commonly known, tweeted to it’s self as it ran through the various tasks that CJ had assigned to it. If targets showed up, the droid would have to bring the ship up to full operational status from a cold start. CJ wasn’t worried about that. Her only concern was being able to start up fast enough and attack a target before they knew they were being ambushed. Confidence was running high within the group. Their boost in confidence came from the Antrixian Cruiser, The Damodred, along with the Corellian Corvette, the Dark Mistress, sitting mere seconds away, awaiting news to pounce on a target. More and more, CJ felt like a member of the Alliance, even if she had joined with a different rebel group. Over the past few months, CJ had started to feel that she had a purpose and that she was beginning to make a difference in the galaxy. Being a freedom fighter was a long ways from the smuggling lineage that ran in her family. “Heads up!” Nessa called out from her seat, monitoring the sensors. “Multiple reversions from Hyperspace, all tracking from different bearings! They jumped in from different routes and are forming up for an exit vector.” “What do you mean ‘multiple’, Nessa?” CJ quickly asked. “This is supposed to be a one cargo ship hit!” “I’ve got five Concealer-class transports and one Acclamator-class escort!” Nessa responded. “Concealers?” CJ asked, knowing that the class of transport in question was used as prison transports. CJ quickly looked at her sensor readout and ran calculations through the nav computer to predict their possible course or heading. She was somewhat disturbed and confused by her findings. “Sensors show massive life signs.” Nessa added. “Those transports are fully loaded.” “Full of Imperial prisoners.” CJ started to frown, thinking their hunt might have just turned up empty. But then she had a thought. “Nessa? Don’t the rebels usually pay for the return of their personnel?” “Yeah, almost always.” Nessa began to smile, still watching the sensor monitor. “Jeez Captain Morgan, you do have a heart.” “Yeah, yeah. Don’t rub it in.” CJ said as she was reactivating her communication link to the fighters. “Everybody heads up! Those ships are prison ships that probably have some friends and allies onboard. Let’s hit ‘em!” “''Those are supposed to be supply transports.” Angella shot back across the comm. “I know!” CJ hastily responded. “But we can get something out of the rebels if there are any of their people on board.” “''I’d just as soon not have this be a wasted trip.” Bren added in. “I just sent the coded message to the Damodred and the Dark Mistress.” Nessa added as she got up from her seat. “I’m going to the guns!” “Roger.” CJ Responded. “These guys look like they’re heading to Rura Penthe.” CJ and Shalranaa began flipping switches, bring the power up to the control consoles on board the modified freighter as Arfee started the power-up sequence for the engines. Within seconds, the Lightning’s Ride thrummed with power as it’s systems came to life. “Wolf Leader, it’s time to ride!” CJ said into the comm. “Messages have been sent to big brothers and we’re going hot!” “''Affirmative, Ride.” Came Bren’s voice back over the comm. “''Good hunting.” “Time to kick the skids and light the fires!” CJ said before pushing power into the throttle to get the ship moving towards a target. “''Hrrrrrnnnn!” Shalranaa added in agreement. As soon as they began to move the engines of the three of the fighters in her field of view came to life and began moving out of the debris field. Angella’s X-wing and Corbin Ravelen’s Viper formed up with each other, moving to combat speed as they cleared the floating junk. Bas brought his Grippon fighter along side the Ride. Just as they cleared the field of Star Destroyer trash, two bright flashes appeared ahead of the Imperial target ships. As soon as the Damodred had dropped back to realspace from it’s short hyperspace trip, a new flight of Antrixian fighters disgorged from it’s hanger, quickly moving to cut off escape. The reversion flash of the Dark Mistress was accompanied by several streaks of energy from the ship’s turbolasers, directed at the Imperial ships. Within moments, the Imperial transports and the Acclamator were under fire. “''CJ… One of the transports is breaking off, trying to run.” Bas called across the comm. “Then that’s our target.” CJ responded. “Cut it from the herd and take it down!” CJ moved the Ride into an attack run, flanked by Bas’ fighter. The dorsal and ventral quad cannons came to life, firing upon the prison transport, splattering energy against the shields of the Concealer-class ship. As the shields began to flash softer, Shalranaa fired the ion guns on the Lightning’s Ride, sending blue electricity across the transports hull. Bas’ fighter added it’s own energy into firing on the ships shields, which were quickly running out. A sudden bright flash from the transports engines showed that the crew of the Ride and Bas’ work had paid off. Arfee tweeted from behind CJ’s seat, informing her that the transport’s engines had sustained damage. CJ smiled and nodded in acknowledgement. Keying open the standard communication channel, CJ hailed the transport. “Imperial transport, this is the Lightning’s Ride. Stand down and power down. If you don’t comply, you will be destroyed. This is your chance to let your crew survive.” Arfee soon let her know that the transport was powering down. “Sweetness.” CJ said. “Bas, sweetie. Cover us while we dock and do our thing.” “''Hurry up.” Bas called back over the comm. “''Distress calls have gone out and we’ll have local security here soon.” “I know.” CJ responded. “Five minutes and we’ll have the transport secured.” Category:Events